


playgrounds and rooftops

by jolach



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, M/M, arts and crafts, flashfic, shoehorned-in wildlife facts, the looming horror of adulthood, vague suggestions of background pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:39:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21665569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jolach/pseuds/jolach
Summary: “Are you having, like, a moment?” Nolan says.“Asshole,” TK says, but he grins over his shoulder, smile bright in the dark. Nolan would say it was all the time on the lake that got him tan, but he was like that when Nolan showed up.
Relationships: Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick
Comments: 62
Kudos: 375





	playgrounds and rooftops

Oskar peeled off half an hour ago to meet up with the counselor from the girl’s camp across the lake he’s been texting all summer. Kevin and G have been taking care of actual adult stuff since the last kids got picked up by their parents this afternoon. Nobody’s seen Jake since he dropped off a case of beer at the counselor cabin with a wink. And Carter and Provy decided to “take a walk” together ten minutes ago, which is an interesting choice for an empty campground in the middle of the night. Nolan had not seemed to be invited.

So that means it’s time for Nolan to go find TK.

They got through a good half of the case, but he knows that the senior staff have better shit in their kitchen. He also knows—thanks for the tip, Ghost—that their back door doesn’t lock.

He can fit two bottles in the pockets of his shorts and another two in his hand. They clink together softly as he trudges down the long slope to the lake. The lights along the path are still working—they won’t shut down all the generators until tomorrow, when the staff is gone—but after two months he could probably get there in the dark, anyway.

TK’s sitting at the far end of the dock. His shoes are sitting next to him, and his feet are in the water. By rights he should get eaten alive by mosquitoes every night the same way Nolan does.

The dock creaks with every step Nolan takes. TK doesn’t turn around. 

“Are you having, like, a moment?” Nolan says. 

“Asshole,” TK says, but he grins over his shoulder, smile bright in the dark. Nolan would say it was all the time on the lake that got him tan, but he was like that when Nolan showed up. 

“I bring you beer and you treat me like this,” Nolan mutters as he kicks his flipflops off. He sets the two beers in his hand down on the dock, then pulls the other two out of his shorts. He looks at them. “Shit.”

“What?”

“Don’t have a bottle opener.”

TK snickers. “You’re fuckin’ terrible. Relax.” He moves his shoes out of the way so Nolan can sit, then fishes in his pocket as Nolan folds himself down. The water is still pretty warm on his feet.

Turns out TK has a bottle opener on his keyring, along with his keys to the canoe shed, the cafeteria, all the cabins, the office, the infirmary, and the van. He pops the tops on two bottles, passing one off to Nolan wordlessly. It’s still cold from the fridge.

“Cheers,” TK says, and Nolan clinks their bottles together. It’s loud on the water. TK takes a deep swig, then raises his eyebrows. “Shit, is this G’s?”

Nolan shrugs. “What’s he gonna do, fire me?” 

TK snorts but doesn’t say anything.

There are frogs in the wetlands along the lake. They’re loud as fuck, singing and echoing back and forth. They’d kept Nolan awake his first night.

TK’s not normally so quiet.

Nolan looks at him out of the corner of his eye. A camp t-shirt, worn out at the neck like all the rest, so faded Nolan couldn’t tell you what year it’s from. His feet kicking slowly back and forth in the water.

“Oskar went to find his girl,” Nolan says, grimacing before the words are out of his mouth. Obvious. Clumsy. “From across the way.” 

TK laughs. “Good for Oskar,” he says, and seems to mean it. He takes another drink. “Gonna get poison ivy on his dick.”

“Yeah, probably.” Nolan had spent a good twenty minutes telling the kids in his cabin how to identify poison ivy and it had only led to one of them filling his bunkmate’s shoes with it. Had been pretty easy to figure out the culprit when his hands had turned red.

A sharp pain, then—”Fuck!” He slaps at his leg without thinking about it, but he’s pretty sure he missed the mosquito.

TK snickers. “Dude.”

“Fuck off,” Nolan says, rubbing at the welt that’s already forming on his calf. 

“You’ve been out here, like, thirty seconds, tops.”

“I don’t know why they don’t do this to you, you fucking traitor.”

TK shrugs. “Your fault for tasting good, dude.”

Jesus. “Guess so.”

Nolan doesn’t know where to put his eyes. He looks up. Sometimes you can see bats this time of night, swooping around eating bugs. 

“I don’t really hook up at the end of camp,” TK says.

Shit.

Nolan has his beer halfway to his mouth. He forces himself to keep moving, not to turn and look. “Uh huh.”

TK keeps kicking his feet, making a little _swish swish_ noise through the water. “Yeah it’s never been—like, no judgment, obviously, but, like, I’m gonna have to work with people the next year, you know?” He scratches the back of his neck. “Never seemed worth it to make things weird.”

“Makes sense.”

“Yeah, I—yeah.” TK takes another drink. His throat works as he swallows. He looks down at the bottle like it’s real fucking fascinating. “Again, like, no judgment on Oskar or whatever.” 

“Yeah.” Fuck this. “You know I’m not coming back, right?”

TK flicks his eyes up to meet Nolan’s for just a second. He always kind of looks like a drawing, all one color ink, dark lines on paper, but especially at night. “Yeah, buddy, I know,” he says. He swallows around nothing and smiles. “Especially not now that you’re stealing G’s beer.”

_“We’re_ stealing G’s beer,” Nolan says. He wants to push harder. He wants to do whatever keeps TK put. “Also, come on, like they’d have me back.”

“You were fine.”

“I was _not_ fine, that kid nearly drowned—”

“—it was not that bad—”

“—only ‘cause Provy was there.”

TK waves a hand vaguely. “And Provy was there, so you’re fine.” He kicks out a foot, catching Nolan in the calf. “And you wouldn’t let it happen again.”

Nolan grunts. He wouldn’t. But that doesn’t mean childcare is for him.

“You were really good at the wilderness stuff,” TK continues. Nolan makes a face—the woods are fun, kids are gonna like the woods no matter what. “No, seriously, we had way more sign-ups for the hiking stuff than the last couple summers. It was nice having somebody else to help out with that stuff.”

“No problem,” Nolan says. The hiking stuff had been good. Hanging out with kids is weird, but it’s easier when there’s something to talk about, something that Nolan actually knows. He doesn’t know how to be a good role model or whatever, but he knows how to tell the difference between a vulture and a hawk from the way their wings silhouette against the clouds, or how to tell if a forest has a deer overpopulation issue. He’d been pointing out coyote tracks to a group on an overnight camp—”see that third lobe in the middle, there, foxes and dogs don’t have that”—and looked up to see TK smiling at him, and he’d just smiled back like an idiot even though he didn’t know what they’d been smiling about yet.

TK kicks him again. Nolan knows that sly look. “You were good at the art stuff, too.”

Nolan shakes his head and grins down at the water, his own pale hairy legs. “You know what?” He takes a long drink, TK grinning at him the whole time. “I was good at the art stuff.”

He’d gotten a lot of paint in his hair and G had called the kids’ self-portraits “nightmare fuel,” but nobody had died or even nearly died, so.

“Fuck yeah, dude,” TK says, setting his beer down. “Your friendship bracelet is sick, easily top five.” 

He holds out his wrist. There’s gotta be a good fifteen bracelets on there. Everybody loves TK. 

“I don’t even remember which one I did,” Nolan lies.

TK huffs and picks out one that’s not too faded yet. Brown, black, and green thread. 

“Right. To match all your camo.”

“Duh,” TK says.

“Yeah.” Nolan looks at TK’s wrist and drains his beer. “I was still pretty fuckin’ terrible, though.” 

TK barks a laugh that echoes across the lake and back. Nolan is glad to be right here. “You were—maybe you weren’t the best.”

“I gotta be bottom ten all-time, easy.”

TK rolls him a look. “No chance.”

“Don’t lie—”

TK reaches for another beer and pops the top with a hiss before passing it along to Nolan. “Dude. Trust me. You may have, like, hated every second—”

“—I didn’t say that—”

“—but you never hated the kids.”

Nolan makes a face. The kids were annoying as shit, but that’s their job. “Well, yeah, obviously.”

TK shrugs and opens his second beer. “So you’re not bottom ten.”

These frogs really are loud as fuck. Nolan’s pretty sure he hears an owl, too. He picks at a splinter coming off the dock, pulling it away from the wood. TK is good at pulling out splinters. He doesn’t mind the blood, or telling people they’re brave.

“They still wouldn’t have me back, though.”

“I dunno, Kevin likes you, he might be able to make G forgive you.”

Nolan grins. Kevin does like him. “Kevin’s friends with my sister, he has to be nice to me.”

TK waggles his eyebrows. “Oh, of course, Patty’s hot older sister.”

“Gross.” Nolan kicks some water vaguely towards TK’s legs. “Tell me Kevin didn’t call my sister hot.”

“Nah,” TK says, smiling and picking at the label of his beer. Then— “I just kind of figured.” He looks up at Nolan, and then away.

Clumsy and obvious looks a lot better on him than on Nolan.

“Trav,” Nolan says. He sets his beer down. “I’m serious. I’m not coming back.”

“I know, Jesus,” TK says, half-laughing, which isn’t—

“Not because I don’t—it’s just not gonna happen, and I don’t—”

TK holds up a hand. “Breathe, Patty, Jesus, I know,” he says. “Study abroad, you’ve gotta go get cultured, do internships, college kid stuff.” He smiles. “Not everybody’s a lifer. I don’t take it personal.”

Nolan has two weeks to unpack from camp and repack for half a year in a country where he barely speaks the language. Well, he’s been taking French classes forever, but it hasn’t really stuck. He doesn’t even know why he’s doing it. He wonders what it’s like to so clearly be meant to do one thing. To find it right away.

“So will you be happy?” he says. Plausible deniability has gotten him as far as it can tonight. “If this is it?”

TK looks at him, and for a second Nolan is furious that he’s going to play dumb. Then he looks down at the water and smiles a little. “You know me, I’m always happy.”

“I’m not,” Nolan says. “But I like you.” TK looks back up at him, frozen. “And I’m trying not to be a coward about it, especially since you don’t even, like, have an Instagram, so I’m stuck shooting my shot in person like a fuckin’ animal—”

“Jesus, Patty,” and TK is laughing again for real, shoulders shaking silently.

“Don’t do shit to make me happy,” Nolan says. This bit is important. “Only if you want to.” TK is leaned over, his elbows on his knees. Nolan can see the muscles of his back laid out under the thin t-shirt. “If you want what I want.”

TK drops his head into his hands and groans. Nolan has gotten better reactions.

“And if you don’t, it’s no big deal,” Nolan says. “I definitely won’t drown myself or whatever.”

TK lifts his head and stares out over the lake. “One time,” he says, “I walked in on an art class, and you had blue paint on your nose.”

Nolan waits a beat. 

He waits another beat, then gives up. “OK?” 

“You had such a bad sunburn.”

“TK, what the fuck—”

“I want to.” TK sits up. He wants to. Nolan can’t parse the expression on his face, but who cares? “I mean, I don’t know exactly what you—but, I mean, I—it’s not just you.”

Once, after a canoe trip, Nolan had stripped off his wet shirt on the shore, and TK had put a hand on his bare back as he went by him, and Nolan has been falling asleep for a month thinking about that warm touch that hadn’t been a joke. “OK,” he says. “I—cool.”

TK grins down at his beer. _“Cool,”_ he says, pitching his voice low like his knuckles aren’t white around the bottle.

“Shut the fuck up—”

“You’re real good at this, bud, almost as good as macrame.”

“Oh, yeah, because you’re so fucking smooth, at least I said something.” He wants credit for that. He’s cleaned up a lot of vomit this summer. That was way easier than this.

TK stares up at the sky. “Yeah, I guess you did.”

Nolan follows his gaze. Huh. Full moon. Look at that.

He looks back at TK. TK is looking at him. He’s got his nervous eyebrows on, like Nolan’s about to jump off the high dive for the first time.

Nolan can do that.

He leans back on his hands. “So, are you gonna come over here, or what?”

TK takes a sip, still holding his gaze. He sighs. “Thinking about it.”

Nolan swallows, sees TK’s eyes drop for just a moment. God. He’s wanted TK to look at him so bad, he never thought to think about what he’d see. “What are you thinking?”

TK puts his beer down. Hell yes. “Think you’re gonna break my fucking heart, Pats,” he says.

It’s real quiet. Then the fucking owl goes off again. TK doesn’t even blink. Wilderness for fifty miles in every direction. Nolan hadn’t thought anything in it could scare him.

“I’m gonna try not to,” Nolan says.

TK nods. “Good enough for me,” he says, and closes the gap between them before Nolan can get in another word.

His mouth is still cold from the beer. The rest of him is warm.

Nolan’s kissed a good number of people. He knows what to do with his hands, generally. Put them gently on the waist. The small of the back. Confident, but gentle. Act like you’ve been somewhere before.

“Fuck,” he gasps against TK’s mouth, and sinks both hands directly into TK’s hair. “Jesus,” he says, and pulls TK back into him. His mouth isn’t cold anymore.

He’d feel worse about acting like a total fucking virgin if TK weren’t climbing into his lap.

A beer gets knocked over, splashes into the lake. Nolan doesn’t open his eyes. TK in his arms—muscle and worn cotton and skin hot like a solar fucking battery—is already too much. If he opens his eyes he’ll die. 

TK bites down on his bottom lip, hard. The noise Nolan makes absolutely echoes. Maybe he’ll die anyway.

“Shit,” TK says, pulling back. Nolan’s eyes do open, then, just to see what he looks like. Just to drag his hands hard down his back. “Jesus.” TK swipes a thumb over Nolan’s mouth, his cheeks. He grins. “I’m gonna be so mad when you leave me for a French model.”

Nolan looks at TK, hair wild, full moon behind him, and shoves him hard into the lake.

The splash is very satisfying. So is the way TK’s arms had pinwheeled on the way down. Nolan can’t stop smiling.

He scoots to the end of the dock and looks down to see TK surface, spluttering and shaking his hair like a dog. “Shut the fuck up,” Nolan says, and jumps in after him.

He lets himself drop until his feet touch solid ground, then kicks back toward the moonlight.

“Fucker,” TK says, treading water. Nolan can see him planning revenge.

It’ll have to wait. “Unless she shoots skeet,” Nolan says, paddling in close enough that he can feel TK’s smile, “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“You’re the worst lifeguard I’ve ever met,” TK says. Nolan can feel his hand at his waist under the water.

He tastes like lakewater. It’s gross. Nolan doesn’t care. “Save me, then,” he says, and lets TK pull him under.

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to be less of an obsessive perfectionist asshole, so: here's this! Had an idea and sat down and wrote it! Hope ya like it! If you spot any stray typos, please drop me a line.
> 
> This is what happens when you seize on the idea of TK as a childcare professional but have never actually been to summer camp or uhhhh done any childcare.
> 
> Title from Bloc Party's "I Still Remember."
> 
> Thank you to kingsoftheimpossible for the cheerleading.
> 
> Comments are the bug zapper of my soul. You can find me on tumblr @ hyggles.


End file.
